


Damaged

by Zeds_Dead_Reader (Zeds_Dead)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dark, Death, Explicit Language, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Levi Needs a Hug, Love, Masturbation, Mental Instability, Murder, One Shot, Pain, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader-Insert, Short Story, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6305344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeds_Dead/pseuds/Zeds_Dead_Reader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi was broken. Damaged. In a world filled with pain. But at least he still had you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damaged

It was easy to understand why the pale man sloped down the street, hands deep in jacket pockets, body hunched over to avoid taking in any of the world around him. It was also easy to understand how he had become this way - uncaring and offensive, cold and ruthless. Those who were in the know kept their distance, crossing over to the other side of the road when his disdainful form approached to avoid any kind of confrontation. 

For the last three months, his previously albeit far from sunny disposition had darkened, mood sullen and dripping in despair along with abject misery. Where people used to be treated to a tut or a grumble, there now lay something harsher; cutting words that were intended to hurt, insults and degrading rambles which caused emotional pain. Anyone who was aware of what happened obviously sympathized, but there was only so much an individual could take so slowly but surely, all contact ceased. The guy was clearly damaged and beyond repair.

Levi's profession dictated a certain amount of solitude, humanity in general finding the work unpalatable even if it was necessary. Should his skill be needed, god forbid, there was no one better placed to succeed in exposing what was hidden, determine causes and circumstances but it did come with a stigma of sorts, making him a pariah even before his world collapsed. 

Standing in the mortuary, dull grey eyes stared down at the corpse that bore no resemblance to you in the slightest, totally different in fact, however he was unable to see past that. All that filled his vision was his lost love, a person ripped away from him, the one soul in the whole world that accepted his ways. And now you were gone. Sighing, Levi set about slicing flesh expertly, incisions made as a dictaphone was mumbled into, death noted verbally with clipped sentences. 

It was a case of going through the motions, performing the task without a proper conscious effort as flashes of memories raked across his troubled mind. As the scalpel did it's work, Levi saw your lifeless body, smelt the perfume you used to wear, tasted your sweet lips. Weighing the dead brain, he noted figures and muttered out loud, coming to a swift conclusion that the organ was normal. The medical examiner moved on, hands shifting in a careful yet thoughtless process, wishing this would be over so he could get home. Home. The place you'd shared, the bed you'd slept in together, every bit of furniture that had been picked out jointly, each room which contained a piece of you both. He'd never change it, though. It was like a shrine to him, a way to remain close. 

Once the evening's case had been brought to a conclusion, Levi found himself unlocking the front door, house dormant as if waiting for his return. He didn't bother turning the lights on, rarely did. What was the point? He needed his surroundings to be as bleak as his heart, a macabre physical reflection of the turmoil within. Keys were thrown into a bowl, one which you'd been insistent on having despite it's overly bright colouring and a bottle of whiskey was grabbed. Silver shards shot through the dim abode as he trailed upstairs, ready to commence his usual ritual of mourning. 

Lying back on the bed, a palm swept over the mattress by his side, an area which was always cold now, never to be warmed again by your form, sheets flawless and unslept in. Since you'd gone, he didn't come in here for slumber, couldn't bear being alone where there once was joy and love, cuddles and laughter, passionate sex. Now it was only him and the metaphorical blood on his hands. 

You hadn't left this earth by the man's direct actions, yet he knew the blame ended with him. Closing exhausted, bag-lined eyes, Levi vividly pictured those last moments of life, swigging at the deep liquid haphazardly and causing some to dribble down from the corners of his slack mouth. He didn't give a shit when the alcohol trailed to his neck, couldn't care less about the sticky, filthy line now on his porcelain skin - all that mattered was this daily grieving process. 

He should have been here, stayed home instead of going to that fucking inquest but his goddamn pride had gotten in the way. A junior doctor could've taken care of it, however Levi was so sure of his findings that he wanted to be there to deliver the news, take down a killer using his knowledge. It gave him power, a sense of superiority, something which he now cursed with every waking minute. When he'd returned after dark, unbeknownst to him the man who had broken in was still in the house, skulking behind shadows and waiting. Watching. Recalling it like the invasion occurred only yesterday, the depressed male relived your end with morbid, tangible certainty...

A faint cry sounded out, the voice of his lover pained and distressed. Levi took the stairs two at a time, racing up and shouting your name urgently. 

"(F/N)? (F/N) what's wrong? Where are you?"

"Le…L…" He tracked the noise to the bedroom, a scene painted out in blood and chaos and at first he couldn't move, unable to take another step as steely eyes took in the absolute horror that awaited him. You were sprawled on the floor, limbs at an unnatural angle, exposed body covered in marks and red, thick fluid. He noted the way you were naked from the waist down and saw how the woman he cherished so dearly was struggling to breathe. 

Bubbles of life essence choked you, splutters and spits coming from within and you drew in a breath that almost felt impossible. Levi dropped to his knees by your side in a flash, hand holding your limp one tightly, fingers smoothing your dishevelled hair. Through swollen sockets, you managed to look up and see the face you loved one final time, arm raised with difficulty to touch a delicate cheek. 

"He…he's…"

"Shh (F/N), it's ok. I'm here now." Casting a trained glance round the room, he spotted your phone, call still in progress as the illuminated screen shone out - you'd managed to contact the emergency services. Grabbing the item, he clamped it between his shoulder and ear, speaking softly. "What's going on?"

"Sir? Who is this? Sir?"

"I'm her fucking husband, that's who. What did (F/N) tell you? Who hurt her?"

"Sir, there may be an intruder in your house. Police are on the way…"

"He's still here?" Dropping the device, Levi went to stand, the voice from the receiver tinny and insistent but you stopped him, halted the inevitably regretful search which would no doubt end in a lengthy prison sentence for your partner. 

"D..don't…please…please stay…"

"But I have to…"

"No Levi...shit...I need you. I need to say goodbye."

"None of that crap, (F/N). You're going nowhere, you hear?" The distraught man clutched at your hands, pleading with his eyes, ones you could get lost in, swim in for days upon days and never become bored. Pain started to leave your body, the hold on reality slipping as you gave a small smile of apology.

"I have to Levi…look…down…" For the first time, your man was able to see past what was evidently a severe beating and violent rape, finding out it was much, much worse. The handle of a large knife was jutting out from your sternum, angle suggesting upwards momentum and he recognised it - the blade was one from your own kitchen, a fucking huge tool that was used for chopping and preparing. 

Deep anguish squeezed at his heart, it's muscles still capable of pushing blood around his body when yours was obviously unable to do so for much longer. "Fuck (F/N)…fuck this…oh god, (F/N) don't leave me…" Salty tears stung in his narrowed gaze, droplets falling freely onto your cheeks and he leant down, lips kissing fervently to try and give life, swap places if possible. But he knew there was no point, could see it in the way you looked into his orbs, that acceptance of fate and fading clarity. "Don't go…I can't live without you (F/N)…"

"Sorry Levi…I love you…" And with that, no more air was drawn in, no more weak grip on his hand, no more soft attempts to kiss back. Gone. 

"No…no! You come back, alright? Get back here right now (F/N)!" Sobbing loudly, Levi bent low, forehead against yours as he wept for his new wife, honeymoon only concluded a fortnight ago. This wasn't supposed to happen. The two of you were going to live together for many years, grow old in each other's company, love one another daily. Sirens signalled the arrival of an ambulance, cops, he didn't give a fuck and just stayed kneeling by his woman's body. 

You were the only person who ever understood him, treated his often grumpy mannerisms as a positive characteristic, solid friends since school. When it came to university, different callings in life took you in opposite directions, keeping in touch regularly online or by phone but his working patterns were erratic, called upon by death as and when it occurred. Also, your profession as a translator for the government meant travel was frequent, out of the country for weeks at a time so you'd not been together for an excruciatingly long period. Despite having been in relationships, neither of you had much energy for them, lacking that one true connection which was forged back in your youths. 

Until one day. One day at a mutual friend's wedding which you both hoped to attend but couldn't make promises. In the end, each of you had a rare stroke of luck and as familiar eyes met across the crowded church grounds, you knew what had to be done. It felt like coming home. That was the start of what should've been decades as a couple, not only half of one. You'd changed jobs, taken a local posting in the city to provide assistance to immigrants in financial matters, talk them through procedures in their own language and even be the go-between during legal battles, a move which made Levi love you all the more deeply - selfless act carried out without question to help others and allow more time to be together. 

And now here you were, dead and vacant as paramedics tried to wrench the grieving husband from his wife's place of rest, strong arms pulling at even more powerful ones which ended with a fight and ultimately terrible moans of sorrow and regret. 

The guy responsible had been caught in your back garden, seemingly unwilling to leave the scene of his crime and now resided in a facility for unstable culprits, showing no remorse for his actions. Levi wasn't allowed to carry out your autopsy for obvious reasons, even though he wanted to, if only to provide safe passage for his absent lover from one plain of existence to the next. He understood though, a serious conflict of interest would mean the case against your killer could've been thrown out of court. So instead he made do with preparing your body for burial, using his skills to ensure a peaceful conclusion.

Back in the here and now, your husband sat up, tears drying on his skin along with the spilt liquor and he stood, pacing downstairs in a resolute march to continue an habitual series of events. Some thought he was mad for remaining in this house, the place you had died yet he had to stay, had to keep close and he pulled open another door, descending to the basement. It had been done up as a kind of quiet cocoon, bookshelves and comfy chairs, no television, no electronic devices apart from one lamp, a haven from the modern world. Many hours were spent here, alone and as a pair to remove the stress of daily life, one space in the building that both of you agreed on fully as soon as you'd bought the place. 

Dropping to the couch, he stared blankly ahead and with robotic motions, Levi undid his denims, zip down and button released. Taking the already hard member in one fist, his silver eyes remained forwards as he begun the final part of his somewhat bizarre reverence, mind filled with thoughts of you and all the times you'd been intimate; the steamy nights and loving mornings, energetic liaisons and sedate encounters. All of it. His mind held your personality and lust for life true, so this was a way of keeping the physical alive. 

Levi's body had become accustomed to the routine, breaths quick and ragged so soon as the end of his remembrance got close, grey gaze focussed in front and he started to give in to the feral need, teeth grit together and a snarl of release escaping his throat. With both relief and disgust, he let out a gasping groan as warmth trickled down his hand, hating himself for the dirty, debauched act yet also requiring this last push. Now he could sleep. On one occasion he'd tried avoiding this part and all that happened was a day full of anguish and pain. So yes, as depraved as he felt right now, it would all be worth it. 

Before climbing the stairs to take up his usual place for slumber on the sofa that sat in the living room, he walked to the point his eyes had been trained on the whole time, softness now in the previously grave hues as flecks of white lit up his expression. Reaching out, he ran a gentle touch down your cheek, dead body perfectly embalmed by his expert hands and now resident here forever, just like it should've been in the first place. Smiling lightly, Levi looked upon your gradually withering form, damaged mind unaware how fucked up this really was and he spoke after kissing you tenderly on the lips. 

"Good night, (F/N). I love you."

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea and quickly wrote it down. A bit fucked, but hey...


End file.
